


Uncrushable

by whalehuntingboyfriends



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, GTA AU, immortal au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 12:28:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13318095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalehuntingboyfriends/pseuds/whalehuntingboyfriends
Summary: Jeremy’s always believed he’s the only immortal, until he hears about the Fake AH Crew. Now he’s determined to find out more, but has no idea how to get close - until Michael starts hiring him to repeatedly mug Gavin.





	Uncrushable

Michael Jones was way shorter in person than Jeremy had expected.

Yes, he realised that was fucking rich coming from him. But somehow Mogar had loomed in his mind as a larger than life figure, an impression fostered by newsreels and security footage, with his leather jacket embroidered with a wolf on the back, and his bear mask shoved up in his curly hair, his eyes seeming to glint red in the flashing lights of police sirens. Maybe he just looked bigger holding a gatling gun.

Either way, it was a bit of a shock to walk into the alley and find a guy only a few inches taller than him leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette. When Jeremy entered, Michael straightened up and dropped it, grinding it out under the toe of one dirty sneaker.

"Hey," he said, and Jeremy swallowed.

His heart had been nearly beating out of his chest since this meeting was called. He'd heard of the Fake AH Crew - of course he had. Everyone in Achievement City knew about the gang that seemed able to pull off every possible heist under the sun without a single casualty. Only two of them had ever been unmasked - Mogar and their leader, Ramsey - the others were anonymous figures.

And only Jeremy had the slightest idea how they were able to do it.

He'd been suspicious for the last year or so that the top crew in the city was like him. Immortal, or some shit, he didn't really know what to call it. All he knew was that he'd come back from the dead twice already and he had no idea why and all his research had led him nowhere, so he could only assume that it was only him. That he was an anomaly, some sort of glitch in the Matrix. He’d been too scared to tell anyone, to dig any deeper.

But time and time again he'd seen the Fake AH Crew on the news being blown from the sky or chased off the edge of cliffs or shot down by police, and yet they never managed to retrieve the bodies, and then they'd pop up again. The only doubt he had came from the fact that there used to be six of them and since about three months ago, there'd only been five. But he didn't know.

It was enough to make him nervous that maybe this meeting was because Michael had somehow found out about who he was - he couldn't see how that was possible, though. The Fakes were at the top of the AC food chain, and Jeremy? Jeremy was nobody.

"Hey," he replied. His voice shook, even though he tried not to, and Michael laughed a bit.

"Hey, chill out, dude. Nothing to be scared of. You know who I am, right?"

"Hard not to," Jeremy said. He was probably staring, but he couldn't really help it. He'd been tracking the Fakes way too closely for way too long, especially Michael and Geoff since they were the only ones he could really properly investigate, so he was hit with that weird feeling of meeting someone who he knew way more about than vice versa.

"Great. And I've heard about you. Underground fighting ring kid from Boston, moved here and you've been muscle for hire ever since."

"Why'd you look me up?" Jeremy asked, and Michael shrugged.

"We keep tabs on people in this city. Pays to know who's who when you get around as much as we do. Heard they call you the Cockroach," he added, raising his eyebrows, and Jeremy grimaced.

"Usually just Roach."

"Not the most flattering nickname, but supposedly it's because you're practically unkillable. Used to take lots of hits in the ring but never once seemed to keep you down. What's that all about?" Michael asked, and his eyes seemed too piercing suddenly. Jeremy felt a bit like the walls in the alley were closing in.

He hadn't told anyone about his... gift, if that was even the best word for it. And despite all his suspicions about the Fakes, he couldn't be sure. Not yet.

"Guess I'm just tough," he managed weakly, and Michael stared at him in silence for a moment longer. Then he nodded.

"Alright," he said. "Alright. That's good. Well, I need someone tough. I want you to mug somebody. Should be an easy enough job, target isn't anyone too dangerous, but I don't wanna take a chance sending some random street kid who might get hurt, you know? Doesn't seem fair."

That was... an oddly considerate gesture from someone who was probably the biggest public offender and menace to society in the entire city. Jeremy gave a quizzical nod.

"Okay. What do you want me to do?"

"Get his wallet, anything else he has on him. You can keep it, I don't want the cash. I'll pay you two hundred on top of that. Sound alright?"

"Sounds fine," Jeremy said. "Wow, this guy must've pissed you off."

"Continually," Michael said, lips twitching a bit. He pulled his phone out and showed Jeremy a photo. It was a selfie of a young man with bleached blonde hair and piercing green eyes, posing flamboyantly in front of a Gucci billboard. He looked like a bit of a rich douche, but was certainly no criminal or prominent figure that Jeremy knew - just some random.

"I'll text that to you," Michael said, "And a list of places he frequents. Should be able to find him within a few days. Just message me once it's done. His name's Gavin, if that helps you track him down."

"Okay," Jeremy said uneasily. "So you want me to be careful not to seriously hurt him or...?"

'Mugging' was a bit of a vague term that could mean anything from shoving him over to fucking stabbing him, and he didn't really want to leave anything open to confusion, since Michael hadn't exactly ordered a proper hit. But Michael just flapped a hand dismissively.

"Do whatever you want," he said. "If he fights back don't let yourself get injured over it or anything."

"Uh. Okay." That still was... not exactly the clear instruction he'd hoped for, but Michael was already turning away and Jeremy felt awkward pushing it. He'd figure it out. 

Michael shot him a thumbs up, dug two hundred dollars out of his wallet, and left without another word after handing it over.

"Thanks," Jeremy murmured, and turned away.

Well. Not exactly the first encounter with the Fakes that he'd expected, but he'd take it. It was a chance, at least, to get a little closer. Who knew what he might learn.

\---

He found Gavin two days later in one of the places Michael had mentioned - a sunny square in one of AC's metropolitan areas, ringed by little shops and cafes with a fountain in the middle that'd once been beautiful, with carved marble lions and leaping schools of fish, but was now covered in bird shit and just kinda smelled like a particularly stagnant pond.

He had a knife hidden in his belt and a gun under his jacket, but he wasn't particularly nervous. A mugging was easy work and something he'd done heaps of times before.

Still. When he spotted Gavin, he paused. He'd been assuming that the guy was one of the many extraordinarily wealthy and corrupt men who ran the city - or maybe the son of one of them - someone he'd find throwing his weight around, or doing anything else to indicate why Michael might hate him so much. 

Instead, he caught sight of the man's blonde head bobbing about near the fountain, and when he approached he paused in confusion.

Gavin was walking in a weird crouch, stalking a seagull with his camera raised and trained on it. He was snickering to himself, and as Jeremy got closer, he realised the seagull had several feathers on its head askew and standing up like a mohawk. He froze, staring at the absurd display. Gavin was so absorbed in what he was doing that he wandered across one of the roads that ringed the courtyard and was nearly hit by a small car. Jeremy flinched, but Gavin didn't even look up as he narrowly made it to the curb.

"Okay," Jeremy whispered. Well, this was fucking bizarre. Still - he shoved his hands in his pockets and followed Gavin at a distance. He eventually finished his video when the pigeon flew off, and proceeded to shove his phone in his pocket and stroll off down the street.

There were too many people around, big crowds of tourists lining up to catch the bus that went deeper into the city. Jeremy waited as Gavin bought a coffee, took three selfies (one of him holding it, one blowing the steam away and then one drinking it), and then wandered off down the road. Before long he turned into a quiet lane, and Jeremy walked forward.

Honestly, he felt terrible, because Gavin was humming and practically had a spring in his step, and it was such a sunny day and even the lane was picturesque, all balconies with hanging window boxes of flowers and doors painted bright colours. With Gavin's shimmery shirt and gold sneakers, he felt a bit like some sort of horrible little goblin mugging a Fairy Prince in the land of Sunshine and Rainbows.

But Michael had paid him a crisp two hundred, so.

"Wallet! Now!" he yelled, charging forward with his knife drawn and slamming into Gavin, knocking him back against the side of the nearest building. He yelped in surprise, then in pain when his coffee spilled out of its cup and down his hand.

"Ow! Fuck!" he spat, and Jeremy met his eyes for a moment - wide and startled and very green. 

"Wallet!" he repeated, brandishing the knife. He saw Gavin hesitate, caught a glimpse of the outline of a gun under his tight pants, and proceeded to knee him in the stomach. Gavin doubled over with a groan and Jeremy reached for his wallet himself, which he'd seen him shove in his back pocket after buying his coffee.

He'd underestimated how tight Gavin's pants were, and there proceeded to be a thoroughly awkward moment in which he struggled to tug the other man’s wallet out, far too aware of how close their bodies were pressed together.

"Buy me a bloody drink first!" was apparently Gavin's idea of an appropriate comment to make in this situation, and only made Jeremy far too aware of where his hands were. It didn't help that Gavin was kind of attractive up close, and his cologne smelt really nice, and he just sort of stood there all warm and pliant, letting Jeremy grab at him.

He finally jerked the wallet free, only to knock Gavin's arm by accident. The rest of the coffee spilled - all over Gavin himself, drenching his shirt and pants.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" he cried. 

The weirdest part of it all was that he didn't seem scared in the slightest, and Jeremy had a fucking knife and a lot of muscle on him. Just exasperated, more than anything.

He saw Gavin fumble for his own gun and immediately slashed the knife at him - not making contact, just enough to make him jerk back.

"Don't even think about it," he said, and swiped Gavin's sunglasses from the top of his head, drawing another surprised yelp before turning and running off. His heart was pounding, expecting shots to be fired after him - but when he looked back over his shoulder Gavin was just standing there shaking the coffee from his sleeves and looking very annoyed. 

"Not again!" Jeremy heard him say, which, okay. Was this something that happened on a regular basis? He shook the thought away and vanished into the crowds of the square as soon as possible.

_Easy._ Just like Michael had said. But the whole thing had felt weird, not like the usual muggings or intimidation jobs he'd pulled for people, and he couldn't quite figure out why.

_Wonder who the fuck he was_ , he thought, but didn't stop to dwell on it until he got back to his bike. He opened the wallet to find a bunch of five dollar bills, a Starbucks loyalty card, and what he thought might be an ecstasy pill until he smelled it and realised it was a stray breath mint. After snapping a photo to Michael, he pocketed the whole thing and drove back home, trying not to think about why he still felt shaky with adrenaline even as he got further and further from the scene of the crime.

\---

Jeremy lay on his bed with his eyes shut, trying to figure things out.

He remembered the first time he woke up after a fight got too violent - sprawled on a couch in the back room, a sheet laid over him, loud voices arguing beside him. Remembered the look on the faces of his friends and the manager of the underground fight club when he sat up and groggily asked what had happened.

They'd decided, together, that there must've been a mistake somewhere - his pulse was just so faint they didn't pick it up, his neck sprained instead of broken, maybe he'd started breathing again and they didn't notice.

Then it happened again, five months later. He skipped town after that, headed to AC. People were starting to whisper. Everything in-between was just darkness and silence. If he was dead, he couldn't remember what it felt like.

He thought of the five figures on the news every night - always masked, always wearing some sort of fantastic costume. The explosions and gunfire and how the men disappeared like smoke after every job only to reappear a few days later. If they were all immortal, how had they found one another? What would they think if he approached them?

He had Michael's phone number, he realised. The other man had gotten in touch with him to hire him. He could use that to contact him - anonymously, maybe? But Michael probably wouldn't trust that. Either way, he had an open line to the Fake AH Crew now.

As it was, Michael contacted him first.

Just two weeks later he received another summons to the alley. Like last time, Michael was waiting there, leaning against the wall, messing with a fidget cube this time.

"Yo," he said. "Cockroach."

"You can just call me Jeremy," Jeremy replied, before he could stop himself - he was nervous, and had never liked the nickname.

Michael's eyebrows rose, but he nodded. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

"Good job last time," he said, already handing over another two hundred. "Do it again."

"What, Gavin?" Jeremy asked, more confused than ever.

"Yep. Same guy. Nice touch taking his sunnies last time," Michael added, lips stretching into a wide, amused grin. "God, he was pissed."

"Who is he?" Jeremy asked, curiosity overcoming him. "Why are you out to get him so badly?"

Michael just laughed and waved the money in his face until Jeremy took it with a sigh, resigning himself to mystery.

\---

This time Gavin was stalking up and down an alley near what Jeremy suspected was his apartment building, making a rather heated phone call. He had a British accent, Jeremy realised - it'd slipped his notice last time, he'd been in such a rush and they hadn't exchanged many words, but it registered now as he crouched behind a dumpster waiting for him to finish his call. He could just interrupt him, but Gavin was facing where he was hiding and he wanted to catch him by surprise.

Finally Gavin lowered the phone with a heavy sigh. He turned away and Jeremy took his chance, slipping silently towards him and grabbing him from behind.

Gavin let out a startled squeak as Jeremy's arm hooked around his throat and the knife pressed against his side.

"Hi again," Jeremy said. He was just the right height to speak into Gavin's ear.

He felt Gavin stiffen - then relax slightly, heedless of the knife digging into him. He sighed.

"Same mugger, huh?" he asked. "Michael's got a new guy, then?"

"Wait, what?" Jeremy demanded.

"Oh, he didn't tell you what happened to the last one?" There was something almost amused in Gavin's voice now. "Don't suppose I can convince you I left my wallet upstairs?"

Jeremy stared at him. He was the one who felt off-balance now, and his grip tightened around Gavin's throat.

"Hand over everything in your pockets," he ordered. "Phone included."

"Sure thing," Gavin said, and then elbowed him in the stomach.

Jeremy stumbled backwards in surprise, winded. Gavin spun around and made an attempt at punching him, but it was probably the clumsiest hit Jeremy had ever seen in his life. He couldn't help laughing as he grabbed Gavin's wrist and twisted; he yelled, dropping to his knees, and Jeremy hauled him upright and slammed him against the wall.

"You didn't have to _laugh_ ," Gavin said, sounding very hurt.

"Michael was right, you're no threat at all," Jeremy couldn't help saying - Gavin pouted. Yet again he didn't seem scared at all, and after a moment he lolled his head back against the bricks. 

"Go ahead then," he said, "Mug me. Don't even have my bloody gun."

Jeremy stared at him, but it seemed Gavin was going to make him do all the work. The way he was standing, lounging back all stretched out, Jeremy had far too good a view of the long line of his throat and a solid few inches of his chest where his shirt was unbuttoned. He swallowed and started searching Gavin's pockets.

"Jesus fucking Christ, how many used tissues are in here? Oh God, do I want to know what they were used _for?"_ he asked, grimacing. Gavin gave a surprised laugh.

"I like you," he announced, and Jeremy looked up. "You're heaps better than all the other muggers. What's your name?"

"Doesn’t matter," Jeremy replied. "What do you mean, all the other muggers?"

"Oh, Michael and the rest send them after me _constantly._ They think it's amusing." Gavin's brows furrowed. "I'm so fucking used to it that I barely carry cash around anymore. It's the _worst._ It's so inconvenient. I get them back, though."

_Michael and the rest?_ Jeremy thought - and then it clicked. Fucking hell, Michael was calling muggers on one of his crew members? That had to be one of the most fucked up jokes he could think of. Then again, Gavin didn't seem particularly traumatised by being robbed at knifepoint constantly. Maybe they all just had a twisted sense of humour.

_Or he has nothing to fear,_ he thought, and met Gavin's eyes, staring until it seemed to grow uncomfortable for both of them. It turned out Gavin actually didn't have his wallet, so Jeremy snatched his phone instead.

"Oh, come on!" Gavin cried, but Jeremy waved the knife at him and he sighed and slumped back again. "Can you at least, like, send Michael some of the better selfies so I can keep them. Jesus. All my music's on there."

"Too bad," Jeremy said, but his mind was racing now, trying to put all the pieces together here. Gavin just sighed again. He was rubbing his wrist and Jeremy almost felt bad. He turned to go. "Thanks for the Starbucks card, by the way. I got a free frappe.”

"You're the _worst!"_ Gavin cried, but didn’t sound like he meant it. Jeremy couldn't help but laugh as he ran back out of the alley.

\---

He ended up leaving the phone somewhere for Michael to pick up. Things were getting too weird to treat this as a normal job.

He looked back at the footage of the Fake AH Crew and now that he was looking for it, it was pretty damn clear that the one codenamed Creeper was Gavin. He was the right height and build and he usually incorporated gold into some part of his outfit. 

So. The Fakes were close, that much was apparent to anyone who looked at their case files. They weren’t just a crew, they were _friends_ , and fiercely loyal to one another. Michael’s instructions - _do whatever you like -_ were so vague that anyone more violent than Jeremy probably _would’ve_ fucked Gavin up a lot worse than pushing him into a wall. So either Michael genuinely had no concern for the safety of his crewmate - unlikely - or injuries weren’t something that mattered to them.

Because they were immortal.

Like him.

Jesus, he was getting deeper and deeper into this - but at the same time it was excitement rather than fear that buzzed in his chest, and by the time Michael called him for a third job he was determined to keep getting closer, keep getting to the bottom of this.

\---

This time, Gavin saw him coming.

The fact that he knew what Jeremy looked like by now didn’t help. Jeremy was approaching him while he purchased another coffee form the same cafe when he turned and spotted him across the square. He froze, and Jeremy froze, and they stared at each other from a distance for a moment.

Then Gavin smiled, slowly. He downed his coffee - an espresso this time - then and there, not breaking eye contact with Jeremy the entire time.

Then, as Jeremy stood there unsure if Gavin was about to pull out a gun and fire at him - Gavin suddenly turned and sprinted.

It took Jeremy a second to react. For a moment, shock - then he took off after him, and when Gavin glanced over his shoulder to check if he was following only to throw back his head and _laugh_ when he saw he was, Jeremy realised that this really was all just a game to him. Somehow that eased some of the pressure; he felt his lips stretch into a competitive grin and he picked up the pace.

He'd give Gavin one thing; he might not be much of a fighter, but the little fucker was _fast_. He dashed down a narrow lane only to circle back around to the square, where he proceeded to dodge the crowds by running over the fountain itself, nearly slipping on the wet marble. Jeremy rolled his eyes and went around it instead, and for a moment they played cat-and-mouse around the water spout, Gavin darting this way and that while Jeremy blocked his path at every turn before he spun around and dashed towards the ornate Town Hall, an old and rather decorous building set at the top of a steep flight of stairs.

"Give it up, Gavin!" Jeremy yelled, "You're trapped!"

Gavin had reached the top of the stairs now. He stick his tongue out at Jeremy before vaulting over a wall into the courtyard by the side of the Town Hall. Jeremy grunted as he followed him, puffed from the stairs. He could hear Gavin's ringing laugh as he galloped over a series of picnic tables, then used a nearby trash can as a step to clamber over the far wall. Jeremy followed him, swearing like a sailor when he accidentally tipped the bin over and rubbish spilled everywhere.

Gavin was running towards a nearby park now. He stumbled over a crack in the pavement, and Jeremy managed to gain on him, but he regained his balance and continued on. A road loomed ahead of them - quite a busy one, too - Gavin darted for the gaps between the cars, heedless of the traffic lights or nearby zebra crossing. Horns blared and one driver leaned out the window and shouted something obscene at him, but Gavin just laughed and kept going.

"Fuck me," Jeremy hissed, but ran after him. One car didn't quite stop in time and he had to vault over the still-moving hood, landing in a roll and scraping his hands on the road. He staggered upright and brushed himself off.

Gavin had been slowed down by a crowd of students making their way around the park. Jeremy drew closer and closer to him, and finally lunged forward and tackled him to the ground.

They hit the grass with a thud. Even Jeremy was a little winded, and Gavin grunted under him. For a moment he lay there, Gavin pinned under him, gasping and trying to catch his breath. He was by no means unfit, but that was more running than he'd done in a long time.

He sat up a little and Gavin wheezed under him, rolling over. His face was scrunched up and Jeremy realised he'd hit the ground pretty hard. Jeremy landing on top of him probably hadn't helped.

"You alright?" he asked, and Gavin blinked up at him. He looked surprised, then he gave a small, almost shy smile.

"I'm okay. Just got the wind knocked out of me."

"You're fast," Jeremy said, "I'm fucking puffed."

Gavin laughed again. There was a cheeky glint in his eye, and the whole situation had the same spark of mischief that seemed to permeate all the Fake AH Crew's jobs; the ridiculous, extravagant stunts they dreamed up, the jobs that didn't bring in much money but seemed designed for the express purpose of trolling certain individuals in Achievement City. Jeremy couldn't help but be amused by it, too.

He was still sitting on Gavin, and when the other man shifted, trying to get free, Jeremy tutted.

"One second," he said, "I'm gonna need your wallet."

Gavin groaned, letting his head fall back against the grass.

"At least you gave my phone back," he complained, as he reached into his pocket. Jeremy shifted back a little when Gavin's hand brushed against his thigh. He yanked out his wallet and tossed it at Jeremy's chest; he fumbled to catch it. "There you go. No need to threaten me with a knife this time."

Jeremy rolled his eyes. He got up and held out a hand; Gavin's eyes lit up and he took it. He had a gold ring on every finger and Jeremy toyed with the idea of stealing those, too, but decided not to. He yanked Gavin up easily and helped him brush blades of grass off his clothes.

"Thank you," Gavin said, primly. And then, with a sly grin, "Heard your name's Cockroach."

"For fuck's sake," Jeremy replied, rolling his eyes again.

"You don't look like a cockroach," Gavin continued gleefully, "You look like a lovely little beetle! Or maybe... an ant."

"You look like a fucking stick insect," Jeremy retorted, and sighed heavily. "My name's not fucking Cockroach, it's Jeremy."

"Nice to meet you, Jeremy," Gavin said, and held out his hand.

"I literally mug you all the time," Jeremy snorted, but shook it anyway. Better this weird... whatever it was than being shot at. "So what else Michael tell you about me?"

"That you used to be an underground fighter in Boston, which sounds terribly exciting," Gavin said, bouncing up and down on his feet like a grasshopper. "Do you still do that here?"

"No, I'm just hired muscle," Jeremy said, and Gavin leaned forward and poked his bicep.

"Nice," he declared, and Jeremy felt his face heat. He vaguely wondered if Gavin was this friendly with all the people who got sent to rob him, or if he was just the exception.

"And you, Mr Creeper?" he replied. "I had a look into you once I figure out who you are. You do most of the infiltration stuff, right?"

"Yes," Gavin replied, "I'm very acrobatic. I can break into anything. I'm like Ezio Auditore," he declared, and proceeded to do a split, which was not something Jeremy remembered being a prominent part of the Assassin's Creed games. 

"You are not like Ezio Auditore," Jeremy replied, laughing, "He's a fucking killing machine."

"Yes but we're both Italian," Gavin said, springing back up from the ground. "Oh, so you play games too, then?"

"Yes, I play games," Jeremy said, and Gavin inexplicably gave him a high five, looking even more pleased with himself. Okay. 

"Anyway," Gavin said then, after sort of just standing there for a moment grinning at him. "I suppose I'll be seeing a lot more of you."

"Looks that way," Jeremy replied. Gavin did not seem too phased by this, on the contrary, he looked rather pleased. He either didn't care or didn't quite realise that that was essentially a threat. "But right now I gotta be off."

"Got another mugging appointment?" Gavin asked, and Jeremy just shrugged. Gavin laughed again. He rubbed his back absently and Jeremy reached out and touched his arm without really thinking about it.

"Sure you're okay? You hit the ground pretty hard. I assume Michael doesn't actually want you seriously hurt."

"Nah, all good. I'm tougher than you think," Gavin said, and gave a secretive sort of smile. "There've been a few different guys, but you're the loveliest, Little J." 

"Little J," Jeremy scoffed, but his smile betrayed him. 

There proceeded to be a moment of awkward silence in which he knew he had to leave but Gavin just sort of stood there. Right when Jeremy opened his mouth to speak, Gavin blurted out, "I should not have run through that stinky fountain. That's the second time you've made me all wet-"

He broke off, realising how it sounded, and proceeded to look terribly embarrassed. Jeremy couldn't help it; he broke into a fit of laughter. Gavin spluttered, flustered, and Jeremy shook his head as he walked away, still chuckling to himself.

\---

The next time Jeremy approached Gavin he was sitting in his car, head bent over his phone. When Jeremy rapped on the window he jumped and looked up, and frowned. Jeremy's heart sank a little. He couldn't deny it, he'd been almost looking forward to meeting up with Gavin, and had expected at least a smile.

"Hey," he called, knocking again, and Gavin wound the window down, just a fraction.

"Hey," he replied, and this time it was Jeremy who frowned. Now that there wasn't a layer of tinted glass between them, he could see just how strained and downcast Gavin looked, how tired his voice sounded. 

"You okay?" Jeremy asked, slowly, and Gavin looked away for a moment. Jeremy saw him swallow heavily. When he turned back there was a tremor in his voice.

"Well since you asked, love," he replied, something defensive in it, like he wasn't quite sure Jeremy actually cared, "Not really, so if we could, like... not do this today, I'd really appreciate it."

Jeremy stared at him. He couldn't help feeling a pang of sympathy; Gavin looked run down and kept glancing at his phone, and was clearly terribly harried. His first instinct was to take pity on him - then he hesitated, since he kind of had been paid already - but, he reasoned, Michael was Gavin's friend. If he knew Gavin was upset, he wouldn't want to make him feel even worse by getting him mugged. Right?

"Can I come in?" he heard himself ask instead, and Gavin froze. A suspicious look flashed across his face.

"You gonna pull a knife on me?" he demanded, and Jeremy wasn't sure why he felt almost hurt. After all, Gavin had a point.

"You don't trust me?" he asked.

"You've mugged me every time we've met," Gavin pointed out, then bit his lip and said, quietly, "If Michael does, I guess I do too."

_Michael trusts me?_ Jeremy thought, then realised it was true - he must, to keep hiring him again and again. Before he could dwell on it, Gavin reached across and opened the passenger side door. Jeremy slipped into the car and shut the door behind him. He turned to face Gavin, who was staring down in his lap now, looking a bit awkward.

"What's up?" Jeremy asked softly. "Did something happen?"

Gavin took a shaky breath. He seemed like he wanted to talk, but hesitated.

"I know we barely know each other," Jeremy added then, "And I'm not in your crew and all, but... I don't know. It's easier to talk to someone you don't know, sometimes."

"You're hardly a stranger," Gavin whispered, and shook himself. "It's not that serious, honestly. I just had a shit day so far. My best friend was meant to come over from England to visit soon, but he had to cancel really last minute. I got the call this morning. Then I went to do a deal for Geoff and the guy was just awful - made all these stupid comments trying to wind me up and then the deal fell through anyway. And then I fucked up another job I was meant to be doing for Geoff and he’s already pissed at me for crashing one of our bikes yesterday, so I don't really want to make the call to tell him. Just - stupid little things, but today's definitely not my lucky day."

"That sucks. I'm sorry things aren't going that well. Sounds like a lot of it's not your fault, though. Things usually find a way to work out eventually, right?" Jeremy said, and Gavin gave a miserable nod. He did manage a small smile when Jeremy reached out and jostled his shoulder, leaning into the touch. "And at least you managed to avoid being mugged today!"

That made Gavin laugh a little, and Jeremy grinned. They sat for a moment in a companionable silence.

"Surely Geoff will understand," Jeremy said eventually. "Aren't you guys really close?"

Gavin nodded, his shoulders relaxing a little.

"Yeah," he murmured. "I mean, he'll be pissed I messed the job up, but if he sees I'm upset about it he won't push. We _are_ close," he added, and sounded a little more confident now. "They're my family. My home away from home."

"When did you come over from England?" Jeremy asked curiously.

Honestly, he was half expecting Gavin not to answer. Despite being so well known, the FAHC was also notoriously private. Very little information escaped them and it was only through sheer chance that Michael and Geoff's identities had leaked. Otherwise any personal information was kept on a strict lockdown.

But Gavin didn't seem to have any qualms about replying.

"Oh, nearly five years ago? I was here on and off before that, though. I moved over full time once Geoff started the crew."

God, now there was a story Jeremy was interested in hearing. But he didn't want to push his luck.

"Do you miss it?" he asked instead, and Gavin shook his head.

"Not at all. Here's better. Better food, better weather, better company. Some of my friends are still back home, but... the Fakes are different. I belong here," he said, and maybe Jeremy was imagining it, but he fancied the words held an odd weight. Like there was more meaning to them than just on a surface level.

"It's good to find somewhere like that," he said, and Gavin reached over and poked his arm.

"How about you, Little J?" he prompted. "You've been in AC a year, right? How're you finding it so far?"

"It's good. A lot busier than I'm used to," Jeremy said. "I miss some of the culture back home, I guess, but I like it here so far. Lots of work," he added, "Cheaper standard of living."

Gavin laughed. 

"So you don't miss home? Why'd you leave?" he asked, and Jeremy froze.

Honestly, he'd been scared. Scared of people asking questions, scared because he felt like a freak, scared because suddenly home didn't feel like home anymore. He was the one who'd changed, and he had no idea how or why, but he'd known one thing. He needed a new start - he needed to figure out who he was, how he fit into the world now that he knew he was nothing like everyone else.

"I... I needed a change." It was a weak answer, and he saw Gavin's brows furrow. "I didn't fit in there any more. Wanted a new start, to sort my shit out. I don't miss anyone from there much. I... got scared to let people close."

"Why?" Gavin whispered.

Jeremy swallowed, his mouth so dry he could barely breathe.

"I guess I just felt... different," he replied, softly.

"How?" Gavin insisted.

Jeremy bit his lip. Again, it seemed like the perfect chance to let things slip - to at least hint at what'd happened, see if Gavin understood - but the second he opened his mouth and thought about letting the words out, he was seized by an anxiety so intense that he nearly threw up; his stomach twisted in knots and his chest tightened.

"I can't really explain," he choked out, and Gavin stared at him for what felt like forever before shifting in his seat and turning away.

"Well," he replied, a funny note in his voice, "You gotta find people who are like you. Everything's better after that. I felt... the same once, I guess, then I found the Fakes and everything changed. It's hard being alone - harder than you realise sometimes."

Jeremy nodded, and Gavin unclasped the heavy gold watch from around his wrist and passed it over to him.

"Here, take this," he said. "I'd rather keep my wallet today, but that should satisfy Michael."

"Are you sure?" Jeremy asked. It looked pretty expensive.

Gavin nodded, pressing it into Jeremy's hand and folding his fingers around it.

"He lets you keep the shit you take from me, I assume," he said, and smiled when Jeremy nodded. "Good. I think it'll suit you."

Jeremy stared into his green eyes and Gavin looked back at him, something searching in his gaze. Finally, he squeezed Jeremy's hand and turned away.

"Thanks, Jeremy," he said softly. "You're a decent sort. I appreciate it."

"It's fine," Jeremy replied, and left the car feeling a little dazed. Gavin waved at him before driving off and Jeremy stood on the side of the road for a good few minutes, trying to sort his thoughts out.

He wasn't sure what he'd wanted out of all this. He'd been trying to get close to the Fakes for a while now, but now that it was actually happening, he was sort of terrified. He felt at once like things were moving too fast, and at the same time like he was running out of time and kept missing opportunities to go ahead with something he desperately wanted.

One thing was for sure - he enjoyed Gavin's company. He wanted to get to know him better, and he took a deep breath and resolved to focus on that, and let the rest play out as he would - as he'd told Gavin, things had a way of sorting themselves out eventually.

\---

It seemed Michael did indeed trust him, because he kept hiring Jeremy, on a practically weekly basis by now - and so it meant that he kept seeing Gavin, again and again and again.

They developed a routine of it, some sort of playful chase followed by catching up for a bit and Gavin handing over whatever he had on him at the moment. Jeremy wondered if Michael knew that his attempt at routinely pissing Gavin off had instead turned into what was essentially just a game to him. He was pretty sure this wasn't exactly what Michael had been going for, given some of the stuff he'd heard about the other muggings.

But either way, he wasn't gonna stop - especially as their conversations started to turn just a bit more teasing, a bit more intimate.

"What happened to your face?" Gavin asked one time, when Jeremy showed up with a swollen, bruised eye. He'd always healed unnaturally fast and since realising he was immortal, he figured it was something to do with that, but this was from just a couple of hours ago and it hadn't had a chance to kick in yet.

"Altercation on a job," Jeremy said, and Gavin tutted.

"Gotta put some ham on it."

"Ham?"

"Cold meat, innit?" Gavin spluttered, and Jeremy rolled his eyes.

"I'm not putting fucking ham on my eye. It's raw steak you dumbass."

Gavin just laughed, but he took hold of Jeremy's chin and turning his face this way and that, reaching up to touch the bruise with light fingers skimming so gently over his skin that it made Jeremy shiver. His heart skipped a few beats, and when Gavin pulled away he had to fight not to chase his touch.

Other things. Like Gavin leaving stupid things in his wallet for Jeremy to find, or Jeremy letting him keep enough money to buy his lunch when he said he hadn’t eaten all day. Stupid cat and mouse chases around the park, or on their bikes if they had them. Gavin actually got close to losing Jeremy a few times, but he usually stopped and let him catch up. Jeremy couldn’t figure out why except that maybe Gavin looked forward to stopping and talking with him, too.

They learned more about each other. Gavin was still careful not to give away to much about the crew, but other things. Like how close he and Michael were and the silly adventures they went on together, and what life had been like back home, and his two cats. Jeremy talked about his fights and what it was like in the ring, and the ongoing sitcom that was his apartment building, and which gangs he’d done jobs for in the city.

He learned that Gavin liked mocha frappuccinos, and photography, and Hitman. Gavin learned all about Jeremy’s music preferences, and that he liked to write songs, and what all his tattoos meant.

Jeremy liked him.

He couldn’t help it; Gavin was fun to be around, and endearingly ridiculous in the things he did and said, and oddly sweet for someone who’d committed more crimes than practically anyone else in the city. It’d been a long time since he’d fallen for someone - too scared to get close, given that he knew there was something different, something _wrong_ with him - and it happened so fast he barely had time to register it. Just knew that being around Gavin made him smile so much that his jaw ached by the time he left, and he spent a lot of time when they weren’t together thinking about him, and sometimes he couldn’t stop staring at him, noticing just how green his eyes were, how pleasant his smile.

He thought Gavin might like him back.

Another of their silly chases ended in a playful fight. Gavin didn’t have a chance, of course; Jeremy used to do this for a living, but he was squirmier than Jeremy had anticipated and they tussled for a while in the grass, trying to get a hold on each other. Finally Jeremy ended up on top, pinning him down, careful not to actually hurt him. They were both breathing heavily and when Gavin started laughing Jeremy could feel him shaking under him.

“Give up?” Jeremy asked, and Gavin looked up at him, a defiant glint in his eye. That didn’t last long when Jeremy tickled his neck; Gavin yelped, trying unsuccessfully to squirm away.

“I give up! I give up!” he cried, and when Jeremy loosened his grip he pulled one hand free and put it up to Jeremy’s chest to keep him back.

Jeremy froze, too aware of Gavin’s warm hand just over his heart, sure that he must be able to feel how hard it was pounding. After a moment Gavin looked up at him; their faces were too close, his eyes too intense, and after a second Gavin licked his lips nervously before looking away with a shy sort of smile.

Jeremy clambered quickly to his feet. He held out a hand and pulled Gavin upright. Gavin held onto him for a moment longer than necessary; his face was red and he wouldn’t quite look at him.

“You alright?” Jeremy asked, and Gavin nodded furiously, his face even more red now.

“Fine, Little J,” he said, and seemed to shake it off, smiling at him and turning to face him properly. But after that something seemed to shift between them and Jeremy was far too aware of every time their hands brushed, or knees knocked together; ever lingering look Gavin sent him.

—

Thing was, it was just the muggings. Jeremy still didn’t have Gavin’s phone number - mostly because he seemed to go through phones at a ridiculous rate, either breaking or losing or changing them. They didn’t see each other outside these little meetings and even if by now they usually hung out together for at least half an hour, if not often much longer, he couldn’t help but want more.

But he was too shy to ask.

He couldn’t help wondering if maybe this all was just a game for Gavin - something that he didn’t think about much outside of when they were together. A niggling insecurity that he was thinking too highly of himself. After all, they were the _Fake AH Crew_ \- and he was just, what? A stupid little cockroach.

By the time his trip out of the city came around, he was almost glad to get away and clear his head. He’d been planning it for months; there was a concert he wanted to go to coming to a city a few hours’ flight away, and then a convention a few days later, and he’d decided to spend three weeks there.

He texted Michael about it, when the other man messaged him offering another two hundred, letting him know when he was away and when he’d be back, and couldn’t help grimacing when he realised there was no one else in the city he actually had to tell. No one he cared enough about or who cared about him.

Still. Off he went, hoping some distance and time away would help.

It did.

With enough time to think about it and without the pressure of seeing Gavin all the time, it only became clearer than ever that he really, really liked him. And missed him. And wanted to see more of him. It was clear when he kept wondering what he was up to right now, when he kept seeing things around the convention that he wished he could show the other man, when he was taking photos every two seconds to tell him about later. When half the songs at the concert made him think of the other man and his own longing for him.

_You have feelings for him_.

This wasn’t just a stupid, fleeting crush, he genuinely _wanted_ this, and it was impossible to deny how hung up on it he was. 

_You need to tell him. You might as well take the chance. This isn’t going to go anywhere if you don’t._

Because what did he have to lose? One day Michael would lose interest in mugging Gavin and that would be the end of that. Or Jeremy would take some job with another crew and it’d be hard to talk to each other any more. 

_Unless the Fakes offer you a job,_ the treacherous thought crept in, but that was something he was even more scared to think about, because if they did…

If they did, all he could hope was that he hadn’t horribly mistaken this situation, that they really were immortal too. That’s what he wanted - somewhere to belong, to know he wasn’t as alone as he’d feared.

_Is it worth risking that just to ask Gavin out? What if he doesn’t like you? You’ll have made everything awkward and the Fakes will never want you after that._

He knew what he _wanted_ to do. But without the certainty that it would go well, he knew it would be hard to bring himself to act. Still - to be sure about his own feelings, at least, was a relief, and he resolved to at least ask Gavin for some way to contact him, to try to be closer friends when they got back, to get to know him more.

—

Because apparently nothing in Jeremy’s life could happen without drama, between realising his feelings and actually talking to Gavin, he managed to make a stupid fucking mistake while trying to trim his own hair and had to resort to shaving the entire damn lot off.

Usually this wouldn’t bother him. Didn’t matter what he looked like as long as he could throw a punch and fire a gun. He wasn’t getting hired for his beauty, after all.

But now that there was someone he _wanted_ to impress, it was an entirely different story. Because Gavin was _Gavin_ , after all - Gavin with his Dolce and Gabbana cologne and Swarovski watches. Jeremy was rarely self conscious but, look… it was possible he’d made the regrettable decision to go clean shaven shortly before the disastrous haircut incident and now that he was bald on both the top and bottom of his head it was possible that he resembled less Walter White and more Saitama from One Punch Man. So, you know. Not fucking great!  
  
He spent the next week frantically growing a beard and after that it looked better, but he was still shitting himself when he got the text from Michael with another job (they had progressed, by now, to paypal transactions). Then he spent a good twenty minutes deciding what to wear and a solid half-hour trying to figure out what to say when he first saw Gavin.

The result of all this being that he made the tactical decision not to walk up (so that Gavin wouldn’t have to see his bald head approaching from a distance, y’see) and instead to surprise him.

Look, it was great in theory.

In practice, when he leaped out from behind a pillar in the car park and hugged Gavin tightly from behind, bellowing “Guess who?!” at the top of his lungs, Gavin gasped like he’d scared the shit out of him and promptly elbowed Jeremy in the face.

He stumbled sideways, ears ringing where Gavin’s bony elbow had caught him.

“Jesus bloody Christ!” Gavin yelped. He stumbled backwards, shaking, one hand on his gun. Their eyes met and for a second all Jeremy could see was how freaked out he looked, how he was flinching back and didn’t seem to recognise him with his new hair (or lack thereof. Rest in peace.)

Then his eyes widened and he recognised Jeremy. His shoulders slumped and his face relaxed.

“Little J!” he said. “You’re back!”

“Hey,” Jeremy began, only to make a sharp noise when Gavin was suddenly hugging him tightly. “I - okay. Hey there.”

“You’re back,” Gavin repeated, voice muffled into Jeremy’s shoulder. Jeremy hugged him back, a bit confused but certainly not complaining about having Gavin’s body in his arms. He could feel the other man shaking, and ran a hand down his back.

“Was gonna ask if you missed me, but I guess here’s my answer,” he joked, weakly. “Hey, you okay? I wasn’t gone that long.”  
  
“I didn’t _know_ that,” Gavin pointed out. “I didn’t realise you’d left town until I asked Michael why he’d sent another guy.”  
  
_Another guy_. Shit - Michael hadn’t said anything about that. Jeremy’d assumed he’d just… you know, not send any muggers until he returned from his holiday. He felt a bit stupid now. Clearly not as special to Michael as he’d hoped.

“Well, I’m flattered you missed my company so much,” Jeremy replied, but frowned - the look on Gavin’s face wasn’t just the joy of seeing an old friend again, even if he was smiling a bit more now as he reached up to rub the top of Jeremy’s head like it was a fucking genie’s lamp. It was something else, something a bit _too_ relieved - a bit too vulnerable. He reached up and took Gavin’s wrist gently, pulling it away from his scalp. “Yes, I realise that my head is very shiny and you are more like a magpie than you like to admit, but before we talk about my haircut - are you okay? I didn’t mean to scare you.”  
  
“It’s fine, Jeremy,” Gavin said, but pulled away a bit, smile fading. "Just didn't recognise you for a sec without your hair. I thought you were just some random. It freaked me out." He paused, then added, quieter, "I'm glad it's you."

"What happened?" Jeremy insisted. Gavin was still hiding something, and it was making him uncomfortable.

Gavin looked away. When he smiled again, it was forced.

"Not every mugger's as nice as you, lovely Jeremy," he said, and a chill ran down Jeremy's spine. Gavin must've seen the look on his face, because he quickly reached out and touched Jeremy's arm. "I'm fine! I told you, I'm tougher than I look."

"What'd he do?" Jeremy demanded, voice low, surprising himself with his own anger.

“Jeremy,” Gavin said, squeezing his arm, “I’m _fine_.”   
  
He stared into Jeremy’s eyes and Jeremy took a deep breath, relaxing slightly. Still, Gavin must have seen his earnestness. His face softened, and he leaned forward, resting against Jeremy’s side for a moment.

“Guess I just got used to seeing you all the time. I wasn’t expecting some random like Michael  used to send after me,” he explained quietly. “So I got a shock when some stranger jumped me. He had a knife. Cut me up a bit then took my wallet and my car, so I had to walk ages in the cold to get back to my flat.”  
  
“Jesus,” Jeremy whispered, and Gavin scoffed out a humourless laugh.

“I must’ve looked a fright! Blood all over my face where he hit me, holding my fucking guts in.” He laughed again, something nervous in it. “Just got home and crashed.”  
  
“Wait, when was this?” Jeremy demanded.

“Like a week ago?”  
  
“You look fine though,” Jeremy said - there wasn’t a scratch on Gavin’s face and he didn’t seem to be in pain.

A faintly alarmed look flashed in Gavin’s eyes. 

“You don’t believe me, Little J?” he asked, sounding hurt.

“Of course I do,” Jeremy replied quickly. “Just - it sounds pretty bad. I’m wondering how the rest of your crew didn’t notice.”  
  
“Oh,” Gavin replied. “I heal really fast.”

_Supernaturally fast,_ Jeremy couldn’t help thinking. His heart was pounding. _Just like me._ How many times had his bruises from a fight faded by the next morning? Had cuts seemed to vanish after only a few days? 

“Besides,” Gavin continued with a small smile, “They know I’m tough. We don’t worry about each other, not like that.”  
  
“So you’re telling me that all the muggers the others hired before I came along used to stab you and beat you up on a regular basis?”  
  
“Not always.” Gavin looked a bit embarrassed. “Look, Jeremy, I appreciate the concern, but this guy was an outlier. It’s not usually that bad. It just caught me off guard and having to walk home for so long afterwards shook me up a bit. But I’m very happy you’re back now.”

He poked Jeremy in the arm, giggling, and Jeremy couldn’t help the fondness that swelled in his chest. But he wasn’t quite ready to let this drop yet.

“So you didn’t tell Michael what happened?”  
  
“No,” Gavin replied. “I don’t want him to feel bad. He couldn’t have known.”

_Yes, he could’ve,_ Jeremy thought. _He could’ve checked out who he was hiring more carefully. He could’ve given explicit instructions not to actually hurt him. He could’ve checked in with Gavin after the job was done._

Thing was, Gavin didn’t actually seem that upset about it. Jeremy was nearly certain that the reason they were all so lax was because he couldn’t get hurt, couldn’t actually die. But whether Gavin was immortal or not, whether his injuries had healed in a matter of hours - it had still hurt him. Still shaken him.

Maybe Gavin didn't care. But Jeremy cared about him too much to just let that slide.

Still, for now he took a deep breath and put an arm around Gavin, hugging him closer for a moment. Gavin seemed pleased, leaning into his touch and nuzzling his cheek against Jeremy's shoulder like a cat for a moment.

"I wanted to ask you something," Jeremy said after a moment, so nervous he could barely get the words out. "I know it's stupid and all I do is mug you all the time but I - I think we get along pretty well and I was wondering if you'd give me your phone number or facebook or something. That way we could chat more and if I'm going away like I did the last few weeks I can let you know."

He felt Gavin stiffen against his side and for a moment he felt sick, waiting for the inevitable shut down, the "sorry, but we're not that close." But instead Gavin let out a breathy, nervous laugh.

"I - I'd really like that."

All the tension seemed to leach out of Jeremy's body.

"Good," he said. Then added, teasingly, "Don't expect advance warnings of when you're getting mugged, though." He slid his hand into Gavin's pocket to get at his wallet and Gavin just laughed and leaned into him again.

"I'm glad you're back," he replied. And then, excitedly, "Come on, use that to go buy us some lunch and tell me all about the con!"

\---

"Whatcha want to meet for?" Michael asked, as Jeremy walked into the alley.

It'd been weeks since the two of them had encountered each other face to face and to be honest, Jeremy was pretty damn nervous. He'd gotten to know Gavin well but the rest of the Fakes were still distant, intimidating figures to him. And now that he was nearly certain they were like him, he was even more invested in making sure he made a good impression.

But this was more important than that.

"Wanted to talk to you about something," he said, and Michael raised an eyebrow. He pushed off the wall he was leaning against and strode forward. Jeremy couldn't help backing up a step; Michael didn't look angry, hands shoved casually in his pockets, but the way his lips were pursed thoughtfully and brows furrowed made Jeremy nervous.

"You know," Michael said slowly, "Gavin won't shut up about you."

"Yeah?" Jeremy replied, too casually. His heart had skipped a beat.

"Yeah," Michael repeated, and gave a knowing sort of smile. "I'm not stupid, Jeremy. You guys get along, right? He's stopped being pissed off that he's being mugged. Half the time he asks me when he can expect you again. Not quite what I was going for when I started hiring a guy to annoy the shit out of him."

Jeremy looked down, but Michael just snorted. 

"Relax. Gavin needs more friends. God knows the idiot's too shy to make any like normal people. So what'd you wanna chat about?"

"Gavin, actually. The guy you sent to mug him while I was away." He saw the flicker of concern in Michael's eyes, knew the other man could tell in his tone where he was going. That spurred him to continue. "He didn't want to tell you but the guy... don't hire his sort again, alright?"

"What happened?" Michael demanded, angry enough that Jeremy could tell that he hadn't intended this to happen.

"He hurt him pretty badly. Gavin didn't want you to feel bad, but it - it shook him."

"Shit. Okay. I'll be more careful next time. Thanks for looking out for him, Jeremy. You didn't have to. I know that means a lot to him. And it means a lot to me that you're loyal. The Fakes take care of those who we trust." He smiled, and turned to leave, but Jeremy stepped after him.

"I know you guys think this mugging thing is all a big joke, but Gavin-"

"Jeremy," Michael said, looking back over his shoulder. "What happened with that last guy was a fluke. A mistake on my part and trust me, I intend to make it up to him. But Gavin can more than take care of himself."

"He got fucking stabbed."

"We've had worse." A glint in Michael's eye. "If there's one thing the Fakes are good at, it's surviving."

There was a nearly mocking tone in his voice - not directed at Jeremy, but as though this was all a secret joke. Jeremy took a shaky breath.

"Yeah, I get that." He tilted his head. "I think I... really get that."

Michael's smug look faded a little. He fixed Jeremy with a scrutinising stare and this time Jeremy didn't look away from him. Their eyes met and he could see Michael sizing him up, trying to figure out what he was implying. From how quiet he went, Jeremy was pretty sure he at least got an idea of it.

"Anyway," Jeremy said quietly, "Still, he... even if he can heal from stuff like that, maybe ease up a bit on getting muggers to physically shove him around, okay? There's only so much anyone can bounce back from. I know he's your friend and it's not my place to-"

"He's your friend, too," Michael said, but he was still staring at him with that thoughtful look. Finally Jeremy broke his gaze and turned away with a nod.

"Right," he said, softly. "Well, thanks, Michael. Good talk."

He could feel the other man's eyes on him the entire time he was walking out of the alley, and his heart wouldn't stop thundering in his chest - a feeling that everything was about to change, that finally the things would come together. But he wasn't scared - the thrill that spread through him at the thought was excited and partly relieved.

_Not alone - you're not alone - they really are like you. You're not the only one._

_Finally, you won’t be alone._

\---

Gavin had been looking at him strangely all afternoon.

They sat in the park together, throwing crackers at a flock of ducks and talking about various things. Jeremy was surprised how comfortable even the silences that fell now and then were. He enjoyed Gavin’s company and even when they were just sitting around, enjoying the fresh air, he couldn’t think of anywhere he’d rather be.

They hadn’t seen each other since last time, but they’d been texting a lot in the interim. Gavin had seemed fine then - but now, in person, he kept giving Jeremy measuring little glances, and it was making him nervous. He thought maybe Michael had said something, but Gavin hadn’t brought anything like that up.

“Did you lose a lot of fights?” Gavin asked finally, as they walked back along a forest trail towards where they’d parked the cars. This was a quiet park, not many people around, and it was nice to have the privacy.

“My fair share,” Jeremy replied with a shrug. “Main thing I had going for me was that I was tough. Hard to keep down. There were plenty of bigger and more skilled guys around.”  
  
“You must have some scars.”  
  
“Not really,” Jeremy admitted, grimacing. They’d all disappeared within a week at most, like all his injuries did. “I heal quickly, too.”

“Right,” Gavin said, and stopped walking. Jeremy paused and looked at him; Gavin had his head tilted, staring Jeremy up and down. “You’re really nice, Jeremy.”  
  
“Thanks?”  
  
“And you’re good at what you do. Ever think about joining a crew?”  
  
Jeremy swallowed.

“None in AC call to me,” he replied slowly.

“What about the Fakes?” Gavin asked. He sounded a bit hesitant, too. Jeremy stared at him, then gave a slightly nervous laugh.

“You offering me a job?” he asked, and Gavin smiled.

“Michael likes you,” he said. “We’ve told Geoff and the others about you, some. I think he’s interested in meeting you.”  
  
“Oh,” was all Jeremy could say. He supposed he’d been working for Michael for months now, but somehow this was still all happening faster than he’d expected.

“I’d like to see more of you. It’d be nice to be on the same side.” Gavin stepped forward and touched Jeremy’s hand shyly. He started to pull away but Jeremy reached out and caught his hand on impulse.

“I’d like to see more of you, too,” he replied, and Gavin’s face brightened. Jeremy took a deep breath, feeling slightly bolder. It was just the two of them, in the quiet path that smelled of pine needles, Gavin’s warm hand in his. He leaned in and Gavin’s eyes widened; his smile turned softer.

They were probably moving too fast, but Jeremy couldn’t help it. It almost felt as though they’d been going on dates already - their little meetings around the city, getting to know each other more and more each time. Hell, they’d been fucking feeding ducks in the park together. So he felt little hesitation as he moved in closer-

Only to pull back as their lips barely brushed. A horrible dread was crawling down his spine.

“Jeremy?” Gavin whispered, but Jeremy was already spinning around, just in time to see a dark figure emerging from the trees.

“Get down!” he yelled, and shoved Gavin aside just as gunshots rang out. He ducked, scrambling away too. There were at least three men in the trees firing at them and he saw he confusion, then determination as it flashed across Gavin’s face.

“Jeremy, get out of here!” he yelled, yanking his gun from his belt in one swift motion. Jeremy stared. He’d never seen Gavin as dangerous - mostly because he _wasn’t_ \- but right now he genuinely looked like a practiced criminal as he raised his gun and tried to shove his way in front of Jeremy, firing back at the men, who stepped back behind the trees. They had cover, but Jeremy and Gavin didn’t. Standing in the middle of the path, they were sitting ducks. “I can handle them, but you need to _run_!”

“ _You_ need to run!” Jeremy shot back, as he came to his senses and got his own gun out as well. He wasn’t certain if Gavin was immortal or not - as much as he suspected, he couldn’t risk the other man’s life on a _possibility_. “Trust me, Gav, I can take them-”

“I know these guys! They’re after me, not you!”

For a ridiculous moment they struggled, both trying to push themselves in front of the other. Gavin managed to wrestle himself to the front; he fired his gun, and one man fell, but in the corner of his eye Jeremy saw yet another slipping out from the trees to their left, coming at them from behind and raising his gun-

Without a word, he flung himself between Gavin and the gunman as the shot rang out.

Pain - a flaring burst in his chest. Then nothing but numbness. The next thing he knew he was on the ground, staring up at the bright sky. For a moment he saw Gavin’s horrified face swimming over his, his mouth moving, yelling words Jeremy couldn’t make out. Then the world went black, and he died for the third time.

\---

Jeremy came back to life with a wrenching gasp.

He sat bolt upright, scrabbling at his chest and struggling not to panic. He looked down at himself, expecting blood and gore, but all he felt was a faint ache. His bare skin was clean and there was a deep, pink scar covering his chest just over his heart. It looked horrible, but it was healed, and tender to the touch when he pressed his hand over it. He could feel his heart pounding, as strongly as it had before a bullet was put through it.

_Jesus Christ._

He still wasn’t used to this, even if it’d happened twice before now. At least it had been quick. Calming down, he looked around, trying to figure out where he was.

He was sitting on a comfortable leather couch, a fleece blanket pooled around his legs where he’d thrown it off in his panic. Shirtless, but otherwise still in his jeans and sneakers from earlier. He didn’t recognise the apartment, but it was nice - natural light spilling in from big windows nearby, fancy wallpaper, gold carpeting.

“Jeremy!” a familiar voice exclaimed, and he turned.

Gavin was scrambling up from where he’d been sitting at a nearby table with a cup of tea. He paused when Jeremy looked at him, eyes wide. A deep relief settled in Jeremy and a tension he hadn’t realised was in his shoulders melted away.

_He’s fine. He’s here. He’s safe._

“Hey,” Gavin said softly.

“Hey,” Jeremy replied, then froze as he realised Gavin _knew_. “I-”  
  
“You came back!” Gavin replied, his words nearly tripping over themselves in his haste as he walked to Jeremy’s side. “You started breathing a few hours ago, but you were still unconscious. That’s how it usually works. The damage starts being repaired as soon as you die, and your heart starts beating once it’s all repaired enough to come back to life. Then it takes a little while to wake up and heal completely.” 

“You know,” Jeremy breathed.

“Of course I know,” Gavin said. “The Fakes all know.”  
  
“So I was right - you’re immortal as well.”  
  
Gavin nodded. He sat down next to Jeremy and smiled, almost shyly.

“Michael suspected first. It took a while until we were sure. Dear God, for a second in that forest though…”  
  
He trailed off and Jeremy’s heart clenched as he realised how terrifying that must have been - hearing the shot, seeing him fall, unsure if he’d come back up. He reached out and squeezed Gavin’s hand, and after a moment he leaned in and rested his forehead to Jeremy’s. They clung to each other for a moment, and Jeremy squeezed his eyes shut. Let himself calm down, realise that things were going to be okay.

“You tried to sacrifice yourself for me,” Gavin said a moment later.

Jeremy opened his eyes and pulled back a little.

“I wasn’t certain you were immortal,” he explained. “I just suspected it. I’d do it again, even if I wasn’t immortal.”  
  
“Jesus, Jeremy,” Gavin breathed. And then, shyly, “Can I kiss you?”  
  
“Of course,” Jeremy replied. His voice sounded a lot fucking calmer than he felt, and Gavin’s face split into a wide grin. His cheeks flushed red as he leaned in and Jeremy met him halfway, one hand rising to cup Gavin’s jaw. The kiss was perfect; Gavin’s lips soft against his, his warm hands cradling Jeremy’s cheeks. After a moment one trailed down to press against his chest, over his heart and the still-healing scar. For a moment it felt like all the pieces had fallen into place, like he had everything he wanted.

He didn’t realise he was crying until they broke apart and he felt tears running down his cheeks. Gavin reached up and brushed one away.

“What’s wrong?” he whispered. “Oh God, did I move things too fast? I’m sorry-”

“No, it’s not you, it’s not…” Jeremy trailed off, taking a deep breath and composing himself. “Sorry. It’s not you, Gav, you were - that was perfect, I promise. It’s just that I was alone for so long.”

“Me too,” Gavin whispered. He shifted back a bit, staring down at Jeremy’s scar. “I realised I was immortal when I was just a teenager. Spent the rest of my adolescence thinking I was a freak. Then I heard about Geoff. Came to visit him over here a few times - he already had Ryan and Jack with him. They’re old,” he added with a scoff, “Real old. Like, hundreds of years old. Then he brought in Michael and Ray and I finally was able to move over permanently from England. I’m still terrified about a lot of things. Like how my best friend is still getting older and he won’t be around forever, and whether this will actually last forever or if one day we might not wake up, and how many of us are actually out there… but being with the others helps. Geoff’s been great. He finds people like us from rumours around the city.”  
  
“You listed five names. There are only four others in your crew right now,” Jeremy said - it was the one thing that’d kept putting a doubt in his mind about whether the Fakes actually were immortal.

“Oh, Ray got bored and left. He’s still out there somewhere. I text him sometimes.” Gavin smiled. “He’s a few hundred years old as well. He needs his space sometimes - I’m sure he’ll drop by again one day, when the mood strikes him. Michael’s younger, like us.”  
  
Jeremy nodded. The pieces fit together and he was so relieved that for a moment he really didn’t know what to say. He just kind of sat there, shaking. Gavin put an arm around him and Jeremy leaned over and rested his head on his shoulder.

“I was scared when you got shot,” Gavin whispered. “For a second I thought that if I was wrong and you weren’t immortal after all-”  
  
He broke off with a choked noise, then shook himself.

“But it was fine,” he said firmly. “I shouldn’t have doubted. We always find each other in the end.”  
  
“Yeah,” Jeremy murmured, and turned to kiss Gavin’s shoulder, pleased when he smiled. They sat for a moment, leaning against each other. Jeremy couldn’t stop playing the kiss over and over in his mind, couldn’t stop smiling. Thinking about where this would leave them.

Finally, Gavin stirred.

“I’ll call Geoff later tonight. I already texted the others what happened - he definitely wants to meet you. And you have to join us.”  
  
“No question,” Jeremy said with a smile. Gavin squeezed his knee.

“But you look exhausted. It can wait until later. I think we both need a drink first - and I have to introduce you to my cats!”  
  
“Alcohol and cats sounds like exactly what I need after today,” Jeremy replied, and slipped a hand around Gavin’s waist, pulling him in closer and planting a quick kiss to his jaw. Gavin giggled and got up.

“Hey Gav,” he called, and Gavin turned around. Jeremy waved the wallet he’d pinched from his pocket when he pulled him close. “Drinks are on me.”

Gavin checked his pockets then laughed.

“You asshole. I could make a stupid joke about you stealing my heart, but I won’t.”  
  
“You just did,” Jeremy pointed out, but couldn’t help laughing. 

“You love it,” Gavin said, shooting him the middle finger before turning back towards his whiskey cabinet. Jeremy flopped back onto the couch, grinning, heart thrumming, unable to believe his luck at all this.

“I do,” he whispered, and laid the wallet beside him with a fond smile.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/joswhale)


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